


Forgotten But Not Lost

by gettinsaucy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Awkward Nurturing Cas, Building and building and building, Destiel - Freeform, Djinns/Jinns, Emotional Fistfights, Explicit material in later chapters, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Jinn/Djinn, M/M, Manly Tears, Memory Loss, Road Trip, Sam's in hell, Season/Series 06 Spoilers, Virgin Castiel, greif
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:50:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gettinsaucy/pseuds/gettinsaucy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two jinn on the loose -- and with Sam in hell, there's only the quarrelsome team of Dean and Cas to hunt them down.  But when a job goes array, and Cas's holy mojo mixes dangerously with the jinn's psychedelic poison, Dean is left with a tainted memory -- and no remembrance of Cas.</p>
<p>Now Cas tracks down the only jinn that can help spark Dean's memory.  But the trip is long and uncomfortable, as Cas must also persuade the resistant man to allow such a strange, awkward angel to get close... and perhaps even closer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Abandoned Warehouse 2:33 A.M.

______

 

"Just GET. Please, okay? You don't understand," Dean said in a coarse whisper. He was crouched behind a row of shipping crates, his blood-dipped silver knife aimed at the dark depths of the abandoned warehouse. It was too quiet. The only sound came from chains dangling from the ceiling, stirred by the winter air seeping though the broken windows. 

Dean breathed deep as he watched the darkness for movement -- as he waited for Cas's inevitable snarky response. 

Lately, Cas had been pestering nonstop him. Ever since Sam left. No -- ever since Sam was taken, thrown into hell's pit. Sacrificed like a damn goat for a world that would never know what he did. 

Dean groaned, pressing the knife's cold metal to his forehead. This was his life now -- pain. A constant guilt; a constant effort to force out the memory of his brother engulfed in hellfire. 

But he had a job now. He had to keep his mind on the job, he reminded himself. There was a jinn lose in this Portland warehouse. Six people were dead so far; four of which women and children. It was the third jinn hotspot he'd come across this week. _Or they'd come across_ , Dean corrected. 

Everywhere he went, Cas followed. Beforehand, with Sam, he would just pop up now and then again. But ever since it happened... well. Cas was everywhere. He said he was worried about him. That somehow Dean was his -- _what was it... responsibility?_ Because he raised him from perdition, and all that shit. 

More like his scratching post, with all the nagging he was clawing into his brain. 

Cas wouldn't stop reminding him said that Sam would want him to live his life -- truly live, and forgo the supernatural. To settle down with a woman and family. 

But Dean didn't want that now. He always thought he did. But these last few months arguing against Cas's persistent pleas had him realize that he could never leave. He didn't know if he wanted to. This family business was all blood and shit and pain -- but he had the feeling that he couldn't leave. Not after what happened to Sam.

Cas just didn't get it. How could he? _He doesn't even have a soul_. 

"You hear me? You don't understand," Dean muttered into the darkness. 

Again, there was no response. Dean glanced back over his shoulder, but there was nothing there. Just dusty crates and the stench of soggy cardboard. Usually Cas followed him like an obsessive labrador. _Where was he?_

"Cas?" Dean stood up, and began creeping aroudn the storage boxes. Keeping his knife arm stiff and eyes peeled for Cas, he weaved around the endless crates and shipping mats. 

The warehouse was like a maze, goddamn it. If that little shit was.... no. The hole in his chest tightened. 

"Cas...?" Dean asked again, walking faster, more frantically. The entire warehouse as too still. Something was wrong -- he could feel it. "...Cas?"

He rounded the corner and froze. 

Hanging against the wall was a body -- somebody. Its head slumped was into its chest, its hands tied back with rope. 

"Son of a bitch," Dean grunted. "Hey." He walked slow towards the body, but it stayed motionless. _Was it...?_

Closer now, he could see the body had a hefty frame and blonde hair. He sighed, surprising himself. It wasn't Cas. Just another helpless civilian without an ounce of gratitude.

At the sound of Dean's heavy footsteps, the hostage's head perked up. 

"Mmm!" he screamed through his gag. His face was pale; his eyes bloodshot and rimmed with purple. Dean grimaced. The jinn had definitely been here, all right.

"Calm down, now." Dean mumbled, struggling to un-gag the flailing man. "Yeah... hey, calm down there, you Pillsbury Dough -- UGH!"

There was a massive force and Dean exploded backward, the back of his head slamming into the cold concrete wall. He could feel his knife rolling from his hands into the darkness as two tattooed giants -- the jinns -- squealed, slashing at him with his claws, pounding into his ribs.

"STOP!" Dean grunted, swinging helplessly at the beasts. He need his knife -- he needed anything. 

"Please God -- CAS!! CAS!!"

The first jinn pinned Dean on his back. The second one jumped on Dean, digging his long fingers into the flesh of his neck. Dean could hear the hostage crying out, but he couldn't move, he couldn't even breathe, as he lay there, still swinging helplessly into air, blood pounding in his ears. He could see the jinn's face now, hazy -- grinning with those sunken lips --

"Cas..." Dean gasped "Pl....ease..."

"It's not your fault."

It was Cas's voice, soft and fleeting. It sounded like it was from far away, yet still from inside Dean's head. His heart sunk as he realized it was just a psychedelic influence of the jinn's poison. If Cas was really here, he could easily --

There was a sudden flash of blinding while light and the pressure on Dean's throat disappeared. He rolled over and gasped for breath, clutching his neck. He could feel a throbbing trickle of the jinn's poison slowly left him.

"About time," he choked out. From the floor he could make out the crisp hem of khaki pants and black shoes. Cas.

In the distance, Dean saw the second jinn running away. The other one was lying crumpled in the corner, unconscious, teeth teeth still bared like a dead dog. 

The shoes moved softly, weightlessly, away from Dean -- towards the jinn. They paused, contemplating the degree of the jinn's unconsciousness, then they turned back towards Dean.

"I said, about time," Dean repeated, sharper this time. He spat out a chunk of bloody spit and tried to reach a sitting position, but failed. The hostage behind him was silent now. With a chuckle, Dean imagined he must have passed out from shock. Cas always made dramatic entrances.

The shoes slowly approached Dean, too close now. 

"You said to 'get'," he could hear Cas say from above him. 

"What?"

Cas bent down the his level. Dean could see his eyes were darkened; his hair mussed from the fight. He looked away, embarrassed that he was too weak to stand. Damn the jinn. 

"Five minutes ago," Cas said. He tilted his head, staring worryingly at the cut above Dean's eye. "You said to 'get'. So I got." 

Dean rolled his eyes. 

Suddenly, there was a deep rumbling sound and the unconscious jinn's eyes flashed open. The creature lunged at Cas from behind, eyes blazing blue and bloodthirsty.

"CAS, NO!" Dean roared, finding a sudden burst of energy and exploding to his feet. 

Shoving the bewildered Cas aside he threw himself at the beast, fists flying. At the same time, Cas regained his balance and spun to meet the monster with a burst of holy light that penetrated the dark -- just as its claws met Dean's face, digging under his skin, surging poison in his veins -- a poison mutated from Cas's spell, now altered to kill, to eradicate. Faced with Cas's power, the beast exploded into a spray of flesh and skin. Dean fell to the floor as well, blood-soaked and twitching, his eyes rolled back into his head.

Cas stood there, his face blank and confused. He watched Dean contorting on his back, lying on the warehouse floor in a puddle the jinn's sinew and blood . 

"Hello?" Cas called in a small voice, his brow furrowed. In the background, the hostage was awake again, struggling and squealing in the background like a bloated rat.

"Hello? Dean?" Cas placed his hand on Dean's twitching shoulder. He breathed deep and closed his eyes. He became one with Dean's pain, felt its cruel piercing, and sucked it away with his power. Healing him. 

He opened his eyes and saw Dean -- skin clean, cuts sewn. Dean's body was still now, breathing calmly. Cas bent down and went to wipe a drop of blood from Dean's brow, but paused. Dean didn't like it when he touched him.

But, he was healed now.... He looked fine. Why wasn't he awake?

"Dean," Cas grumbled, poking his shoulder. The hostage was beginning to annoy him; Dean needed dean to get up and take care of the human. "Wake up. Dean."

Dean's lashes fluttered and he groaned. His eyes opened slow, the pale green shot with red and boarded by bruises. Cas recoiled. _Why wasn't he fully healed?_

Dean's body stayed still, but the eyes searched frantically around the room. They fell of Cas's face and the pupils dilated softly. Cas attempted a smile. _That was natural, right?_ Dean opened his mouth to speak, and --

"Who are you?"

Cas frowned and looked behind him. No one was there, besides the obnoxious screaming man. But Dean wasn't looking at the man -- he was looking at him.

"It's Castiel. Dean --" Cas scrutinized Dean's face, searching for wounds. "Why did I not heal your eyes properly?"

"Who are you?" Dean repeated, louder this time. "What am... I standing in? Shit -- Sam?!" 

"Here." Cas tried to help him to a sitting potion, but Dean flinched at his touch and scrambled into the corner, his chest heaving, his eyes crazed in confusion.

"SAM! GET OVER HERE!" He pointed at Cas. "Take one step and you'll wish your throat was already slit." His hands frantically searched his pocket for his knife -- the one that currently lay hidden beneath a nearby crate.

Cas took a step forward.

"Why are --"

"STAY AWAY."

Cas stopped with his hand outreached. He looked to the mess of blood -- the stain of the jinn's blue venom swirling in the red -- and he looked back at Dean -- the panic in his eyes, the healed skin, and he understood...

The jinn's memory-altering poison had mixed with his own holy blast. It had intensified with his energy into a toxic concoction...

"Who are you?" Dean whispered, his face hard.

Cas's arm dropped limp to his side. For the first time, he felt a very human pang in his gut.

 

Dean did not remember Cas.

___________


	2. Rainy Motel -- 10:30 pm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas must work to gain Dean's trust back.

Cas stood still, waiting in the parking lot outside of Super 8 Motel. Dean was inside the room. It had been seven days, and he still wouldn't let Cas inside.

_Not until he knows who I am,_ Cas thought, his brow clenched. It was all very confusing. 

He noticed a young couple leaving the motel, hand in hand. They stopped by their car and pecked on the lips, the man pinching the womans bum before they jumped in their car and drove away. Cas watched them pensively. He didn't understand these humans.

He didn't understand much lately. The memory-wiping incident was a week ago, and Cas hadn't learned anything new. It was all guesses, and assumptions. All he really knew was that the mixture of the jinn's psychedelic poison with his own holy powers produced some type of memory-wiping effect with Dean's brain. He could not remember the last few months -- even Sam's one-way trip to hell. 

But anything involving Cas was gone. Vanished entirely. _Most likely because it was my powers that preformed the eradication._ But besides that, Dean seemed normal; he ate and showered and drank -- and drank and drank -- like usual. 

And, as Cas expected, Dean was obsessed with finding Sam. He wouldn't listen to the strange angel who tried to convince him of what really happened. Convince him that Sam was in hell and he wasn't coming back, and that he better move on with his life. But no -- he just sat holed up in that damn motel, not letting Cas inside, calling every hunter he knew for information. _To no avail, of course._

"GOD DAMN IT!" Dean cursed from inside the room, followed by a smash and the sound of paper ripping. Cas flinched.

He never liked this side of Dean -- upset, cursing, smashing bottles. The moment he understood what happened, Cas was determined to end Dean's pain by bringing his memory back. 

_But it's hard to talk to the man when he aims a pistol at my head every time I try to reason._

"SON OF A BITCH." There was another smash inside.

Cas took a step forward, then stopped and breathed deep. He closed his eyes. _I can't help him._

Suddenly, something occured to him. His eyes flicked open, brighten. _There could be a way..._

Jinn usually grouped in family units. If he could just track down that other jinn that fled at the warehouse -- the brother of the one who poisoned Dean -- then he could extract its blood for an anti-venom. 

_Perhaps..._

Suddenly, there was another crash, but not from inside the hotel. Cas looked up and saw a bright flash on the horizon. Lightning. _Barachiel....how excessively dramatic._ Cas rolled his eyes.

A moment later there was the crash again -- thunder -- and the sky darkened and started to rain. The pavement became speckled; he could hear the thick drops bounce off of the motel's roof and car windows. 

Cas crossed his arms, feeling the water weigh down his coat. He didn't get cold, but it was still humiliating. Waiting in the parking lot, like a dog. All for a human. _Dean's not just a human,_ he reminded himself. _He is... a friend._

But he didn't dare exile himself away to someplace dryer. He knew he had to stay with Dean, although he couldn't place the reason exactly. It didn't feel right leaving him. 

The sky cracked once more and rain began falling harder. It was getting late; he could feel the temperature dropping. 

Cas sighed, and his eye caught flash of movement at the motel. He furrowed his brow. It was the curtains from Dean's room. He squinted at it -- _is there a skirmish? A demon?_ No -- if there was he would sense it. 

But there is was again, a ripple in the cloth. A flash of green. Cas knew that green -- Dean's eyes. 

He was spying on Cas. 

Cas frowned as the cloth twitched again. _Why is he interested in me now?_ His chest tightened and he coughed lightly. _Is this... "getting a cold"?_ he wondered, glancing up at the freezing rain. He had heard that it was not healthy to stand about in such weather. 

The green disappeared for a moment, and a second later there was a small click of the door unlocking. Cas scrunched his forehead, confused. The door opened and Dean's head glanced out. He looked straight at Cas, his eyes dark. Nodding his head once, he disappeared back inside. _He wants me to come in?_ Cas thought, his confusion growing.

Inside the motel, Dean shut the door and turned to his bottle of whiskey. Just as he picked it up, there was a _whoosh_ and that strange angel appeared -- _just appeared_ \-- in his room. His hair was soaked from the rain, dripping down onto his face and shirt collar, but it didn't seem to bother him.

"Jesus!" Surprised, Dean dropped the bottle and it crashed onto the cheap linoleum floor. "What the hell?!" The angel cocked his head, unblinking. " You can't just --never mind" Dean grumbled, crouching to pick up the glass pieces.

"You did ask me to enter," the angel mumbled. He had to cautious with this... new Dean. "Correct?"

"Yeah." Dean didn't look up from the glass shards. _Not give me a heart attack,_ he thought to himself. "Tell me again why your stalking me."

A flash of sadness spread over the angel's face, but it was quickly replaced by the same monotonous blank stare. _This guy is so intense,_ Dean thought grimly, scooping the last glass piece and placing it in the pile on the table.

Dean didn't know anything about this "Castiel," as he called himself. All he knew is that he woke up to his overbearing face in some a warehouse last week -- and that Sam was missing. And now this freak angel kept following him. 

Cas ignored Dean's question. "Why did you call, Dean?"

"Don't say my name," Dean snapped, pointing at Cas. The thunder rumbled outside. "It... freaks me out. Just don't." The angel nodded. 

Dean sighed and leaned back onto the table, and -- 

"ARGH!!" he bellowed, immediately jumped back and clutching his hand. It was dripping with blood; he had leaned back on the pile of glass. "DAMN IT." He wrapped the gash with his jacket sleeve. 

Cas stepped forward, his arm outreached. "Here, let me --"

"No!" Dean spat, shoving the angel's chest. Cas vanished, and reappeared in the far corner of the room. Dean was breathing heavy, watching him, his arm still outstretched. 

Cas looked curiously down at his shirt. 

"You stained my clothing."

"You... stay back," Dean grumbled, wrapping his gash in his jacket sleeve. Cas just watched, staying across the room. 

Dean paused picking the shard out. He sighed. "You said you had a plan." 

"I did."

There was silence. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Well, what is it?"

"It is a plan for restoring your memory," Cas mumbled, still staring straight at Dean. 

Another moment of tense silence.

Feeling uncomfortable, Dean went to shut the window. He paused there, thinking of what to say to this strange angel. The drops sped down the glass, like a dance, pooling at the bottom of the sill and dripping onto the sidewalk. He could make out the Impala in the parking lot, and the spray of heavy rain as it bounced off the hood. 

Motels never really bothered him. But without Sam, they somehow seemed more pathetic. 

"It is a plan for restoring your --"

"I heard you the first time," Dean said gruffly. He turned to face the angel. He hadn't moved an inch; he was still standing perfectly erect and solemn by the bed with the cheap floral comforter.

"And why exactly do I need my memory back? I remember enough."

_But not me._

"Your memory is necessary for getting Sam back." Dean perked up at this, arching a thick eyebrow.

"He's not in hell."

"Get your memory back, and then try to convince me of such." 

Dean just clenched his jaw and walked over to the mural on the wall: maps, charts, newspaper clippings. His fruitless plan to find Sam.

"I can find some other way to prove where he is."

"No. You must get your memory back. Jinn have powers that can enhance your memory," Cas said sternly. "You can know exactly where in hell he is. And you have a better chance at rescuing him."

Cas didn't know why he lied. Everything just seemed easier when Dean remembered Cas. They were a team. _That's why I want his memory back. For means of efficiency..._

Dean turned to Cas. He laughed.

"I've never heard of a damn jinn that can enhance memory," he said. "You're lying."

"I do not lie. I am an angel of the lord."

Dean snorted. "Please. I can remember a dozen holy, shithead- wing flappers that have lied straight to my and Sam's --" Dean paused, and rubbed his eyes. "Never mind. Whatever. It's the only lead I got. We'll start hunting that jinn tomorrow." Cas just nodded and turned back to the mural.

There was silence as they both stared at the wall. They both could hear the rain tapping against on the window. 

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it, and grunted instead. He left into the bathroom, and shut the door.

Cas stayed staring at the wall, still as stone.

Inside the bathroom, Dean turned on the shower. _He's lying,_ he told himself, peeling off his shoes and socks. "Don't get caught up in that stoic, holy crap he's spewing. He's just another freak sideshow with his own motives at heart." Dean told himself into the foggy mirror. The problem was, he didn't believe himself. He would, without a doubt, think that this angel was lying -- that he never actually had any memory of this Castiel -- if he couldn't recall the last few months also. 

_Don't think about it._ He nodded once, before stripping of his jacket and shirt. He paused, looking at the door. He couldn't hear anything, besides the loud sputtering of the cheap shower head. 

He flicked the lock closed before pulling off his jeans and boxer short. He piled them in the corner with the rest of his clothes.

_If he's going through my shit..._ Dean thought as he stepped into the moldy shower. The water was too hot but it felt good dripping down his back. _I'll shoot that freak if he does._ He felt around blindly for the soap spigot and pumped it twice. He cursed as the sharp scent of pine wood burned his eyes, but it was all he had so he held his breath and rubbed it over his face and body. He really needed to shave, but decided to do it tomorrow. Plus the water was getting cold already. _Damn cheap motels._

Suddenly there was a snapping noise above him. The lights shot out, leaving the room pitch black. 

"What --" Dean grumbled to himself, instinctually looking to his pistol -- still in his jeans' pocket on the floor. He looked to the bathroom door. It remained still; if the angel was jumping him, he would have already.

"Hey!" he bellowed at the door. There was a pause, and --

"I think the electricity has failed." He could barely hear the angel. "The storm is quite... powerful."

"Yeah, I got that much, thanks." 

Dean shut off the now-freezing water, and quickly wrapped a towel around his waist. 

_Damn!_ He closed his eyes, cursing to himself. It had occurred to him that he had forgotten a clean change of clothes. 

He wrapped his towel tighter and opened the bathroom door a crack, steam billowing out. In the darkness, he could see the outline the angel. He was still staring at the wall collage. He had not moved an inch. 

"Hey," Dean called out, feeling incredibly awkward. "You don't look. You stay there. Try anything and --"

"You can trust me." 

The voice was small and absolute. Cas stayed facing the wall, his arms clasped behind his back. 

Dean paused, and then took a deep breath and left the bathroom, pistol in hand, and rushed towards his duffel. He pulled out a clean pair of boxers, and glancing to make sure the angel was still motionless, he dropped the towel and hastily pulled them on.

"South," Cas said. He could smell the sharp pine scent of Dean's soap.

"What?" Dean pulled on a pair of Sam's old socks for good measure. If the electricity was out, it was sure to get cold during the night.

"We will travel South. Southwest. I hear the jinns enjoy warmer weather."

_Exactly what I was thinking, actually._ Dean rolled his eyes. He scratched the moisture out of his beard scruff and got into bed. It was highly uncomfortable, with the angel just standing there.

"You --" he began.

"I will be outside." 

Cas walked towards the front door, his hands still clasped behind his back.

"No," Dean said, quickly regretting it. 

The angel paused, and faced Dean, his eyes and blood-stained shirt glowing in the darkness. Dean scratched his beard again, looking away. He grumbled.

"You can stay. It's raining like a freak out there. Just stay over at the wall. Keep watch."

"For what?"

_That's true,_ Dean thought. _The jinn won't be hunting us. Not until they knew they're being hunted._

The angel was strange, and made Dean uneasy. But he said he could help find Sam. And the truth was -- Dean wouldn't admit it even with a blade to his throat -- but he was sick of the room being empty. It was just negative space, like what he felt inside, with his brother gone. The guilt was everywhere. 

"For whatever. Just keep watch." The thunder rumbled, and the dark room seemed to shake.

Cas paused. He nodded once and took a seat by the window at the far side of the room.

"And if you try anything..." Dean showed off his pistol before placing it under his pillow. Cas just stared. "Okay then." Dean rolled over and shut his eyes. "And, look somewhere else," he mumbled.

Cas obeyed and turned his head to look out the window, watching the Impala tormented by the storm.

Hours passed. It took a while, but Dean's breath slowly settled, growing steady and rhythmic. Fast asleep. The rain outside slowed to a drizzle, and Cas finally looked away. Stared at the black, still shape that was his friend -- the man who forgot him. The man he could not heal. After Dean did so much for him. Cas felt powerless.

"I am sorry."

It was softer than a whisper, and he knew that Dean couldn't hear.

For the remaining hours he stood still, by that small, rain soaked window, squinting through the darkness at Dean. His relaxed face, his steady breath, his hair still damp and ruffled from the shower. He could even see some soap forgotten in the crook of his earlobe. _Peaceful._ This was the Dean he liked. Carefree. The man held too much guilt on his shoulders.

As the first morning light shone through the window -- pale blue -- Cas could hear a grumbling as Dean rolled over, the sheets pulled down, exposing his back. 

Cas tilted his head. He could see the cut on Dean's hand clearly now. The towel he had wrapped around it was blood soaked. It could get infected.

Slowly, Cas walked towards Dean, his footsteps light as air. He reached the bedside, his hands still clasped behind his back. Dean's face was pressed hard against his pillow, his mouth agape. Cas could see his hand was still wrapped around the pistol. 

He looked to the bloody hand and, gently, touched it with two fingers, healing the scrape. The flesh now a soft pink. _If only I could heal more._

At his touch, Dean fidgeted -- his arm wrapping around his wide torso, his hand settling on his shoulder. Over the faint outline of a handprint. 

Cas's handprint. 

Cas tilted his head, feeling his chest tighten again. Yes, the weather -- he was definitely getting a cold. 

But he knew, deep down, that was not possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Installment:
> 
> Cas and Dean hunt the only jinn that could bring Dean's memory back. Along the way, Cas discovers he can trigger some of Dean's memory though special means -- the sense of touch.

**Author's Note:**

> Next Installment...  
> Dean locks Cas out of his hotel room as he struggles to make sense of it all. With the forlorn angel left alone in the rain, Dean succumbs to guilt and allows him inside -- leading to an awkward sleeping situation.


End file.
